i am a narnian, and i used all 3 prompts.
Everything was gone.
My entire life is literally ashes and a couple of tiny stubborn fires left in the rubble.
Once I was told I could, I went and poked around for anything that was left.
All I found was my diary and one of my mom’s finger bones. The former delighted me, the latter freaked me out too much to look for anything else.
I thumbed through the diary at the shelter. From the words I could piece out from the scorched paper, it was my diary from when I was nine.
I find a different me in those pages.
I find the me who had gone to summer camp in Maine, and I got lost in the woods on the overnight camp-out, but my best friend Carlye found me. The me who wrote her name on the bottom left corner of the eastern wall. The me who drew the pyramid and eye picture that became the cabin crest, and was hung over the porch.
Later in the diary, I find the me who left camp and went to a Little Big Town concert when I won a radio station contest, and brought my mom, dad, and Carlye, and we got T-shirts and got our CDs autographed.
When I finish the diary, I sigh and run my fingers through my long, smooth dark hair.
I glance around at the white brick walls. They seemed to radiate sadness. Fear. Regret.
However, I see a sharpie message on one of the bricks. I walk over to read it.
Ask no questions and you’ll get no lies, it reads.
“How is that supposed to help?!” I scream.
I punch the brick.
It isn’t pleasant.
I held my bleeding knuckles to my chest, breathing hard, as if I’d just run up ten flights of stairs, contemplating whether or not to punch it again.
“The wall won’t break. But it’ll break you.”
I turn towards the voice. It’s a boy, with artfully styled black hair and perfect eyes.
“My sister broke. She had five broken bones when she took her first smack at it. She couldn’t stop hitting.” He looks away.
I look at my hands.
They twitch. They want the wall.
The boy walks over and, knowing what he’s about to do, I nod, so he takes my hands. He gently pulls me to the centre of the room.
I yelp as my hands start dragging my body back to the wall.
“It takes a bit of practice.” The boy says, restraining me. “But you’ll get it eventually.”
“What does the message mean?!” I choke out. I don’t even know why it was paining me so much.
“Look closer.” He says.
He holds my hands away from the wall as I peer at it.
In tiny sharpie, there’s a date.
“That’s when time will end.”